


Good Neighbors

by NotTasha



Series: Annie Greer Saga [6]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Gen, Horses, Pre-Series, young ezra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 07:03:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5996101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotTasha/pseuds/NotTasha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Continuing the Annie Greer Saga.  Young Ezra and Annie go visiting</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Neighbors

**Author's Note:**

> RATING: G  
> CATEGORY: Challenge - Annie Greer Saga  
> MAJOR CHARACTERS: Ezra and OFC - Annie Greer  
> DISCLAIMERS: This is fanfiction. No profit involved. This story is based on the television series "The Magnificent Seven". No infringement upon the copyrights held by CBS, MGM, TNN, The Hallmark Station, Trilogy Entertainment Group, The Mirisch Corp. or any others involved with that production is intended.  
> SUMMARY: Just another moment in young Ezra's life with his Auntie Annie. They go visiting old neighbors   
> DATE: August 28, 2015

Annie Greer was working her embroidery in the parlor when Ezra came down the stairs. He paused when he saw her and lifted the book in his hand. "This one just isn't going to work," he said.

Annie frowned, and motioned him to come closer. "Why not? I've always been fond of it."

The boy shrugged. "It's not even English." 

"It is English," Annie insisted. "It's Middle English."

Ezra grimaced. "It's too hard to get through." 

She took the book from him and opened it to the first page. She squinted at the print. "It takes a little work, but I promise, once you get started, it will come clear. It just takes perseverance and desire to understand it."

"But there are so many others that are easier to read," Ezra said, gesturing in the direction of her bookcase. 

"When has 'easy' equated to 'good'?" Annie asked.

He sighed and said, "I like easy."

"Some things deserve extra time and patience."

"But, Auntie Annie," Ezra said petulantly. "I'm not exactly patient."

She smiled. She'd known the boy for five months now, and in spite of his words, she found he could be remarkably patient for some things. 

Oh, he always looked for the easiest way to do anything -- to find whatever means brought him what he wanted with the least amount of effort -- but he could spend an entire afternoon trying to master a tune on the pianoforte.

He would spend all evening playing poker at the police station if the men didn't send him home.

He would wait for as long as necessary for the postman, Mr. Ryder, to come with the daily mail. He waited with the same anticipation and reply to him with the polite responses, only to fall again to the same quiet disappointment when no letter arrived from his mother. 

Still, his patience was waning in that endeavor.

Five months now. Maude had promised that she'd return in a month. Annie wondered how many promises had been broken by Ezra's mother. Ezra didn't seem surprised by her absence. Obviously, this was familiar to him.

"Patience is a virtue," Annie remaindered.

Ezra laughed. "My family is not known for its virtues."

Knowing the truth of the matter, she flipped pages of the old book. "The stories are delightful and many are funny. And some are rather…" and she paused, remembering. "Well, some are quite adult and perhaps not appropriate for a child." She shut the book with a snap and tucked it away from him, under a pillow. "It's probably best that you don't go any further."

That changed things. His interest piqued, Ezra stretched his neck as if he could get a view of the hidden book. "I'm not so young," he said.

Annie smiled at that. "Well, I don't know."

He drew in a breath and said, "I promise I will try again and honestly attempt to understand it. I won't be harmed by any of the content." He made a gesture, stating, "And I will stop reading immediately if anything becomes too untoward." 

Slowly, she pulled the book out, trying not to grin. "If you promise…"

"I do! I promise," Ezra said, restraining himself for a moment before he reached out to take the book from her hand.

At that moment, someone rapped on the door, and Ezra nearly dropped the book in surprise.

Annie couldn't restrain her laugh as she stood. "Mr. Conrad is here," she told him. "Are you ready?"

Ezra clutched the book for a moment, before nodding quickly and saying, "I just need to put this away and I'll be right back."

She smiled after him as the boy bounded up the stairs. She stood and went to open the front door.

Mr. Conrad stood smiling. "Annie, dear Annie," the man said, reaching out to hug her. "It's been too long."

And it had been too long. Seven years had passed since she'd last seen her old neighbor. He'd aged in that time, grown whiter and more wrinkled. She almost cried at the sight of him, remembering her own father. They embraced and it was a little like hugging her father again.

He stepped back suddenly and said, "This must be Ezra?"

The boy had appeared at her side, looking anxious and ready to go.

"Yes, yes," she said, "He's my nephew. Ezra, this is Mr. Timothy Conrad. He was my neighbor when I was growing up. I told you about him."

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Conrad," the boy said formally, extending a hand.

The older man chuckled and accepted the handshake. "Pleased to meet you as well," he returned. "He's quite adult, isn't he?'

Ezra made an exasperated sound, and Annie rested a hand on his shoulder. "He's going to start school soon in town."

"School," Mr. Conrad repeated. "I guess it is September already. Are you excited to go?"

And Ezra had that same expression that he'd used when she first mentioned it. He looked strangely resigned. "Yes, sir," he said. "It will be nice."

Not knowing what to make of the response, Conrad turned to Annie and gestured to the waiting wagon. "Are you ready?"

Annie nodded, and Mr. Conrad led the way. She smiled as they made their way through the gate. A few months ago, and she would have never even imagined this little journey. She couldn't have walked through the gate and now, she was going outside of town—for the first time in seven years.

"Is this Demon and Devil?" she asked as they drew closer to the matched black horses. The nearest one stamped in his traces.

"They sure are," Conrad told her. "Still going strong."

She patted the flank of one of the big horses. Ezra looked dubious as he stood behind her. 

"Don't worry," Conrad said. "They're pussycats."

"They why did you name them like that?" the boy asked, not getting any closer. "They sound dangerous."

Conrad laughed. "It makes people wary of them," he said. "Folks won't mess with my horses when they hear those names. You can pat Demon, if you'd like."

Ezra narrowed his eyes and then shook his head. "No thank you, sir," he said. "I don't really get along with horses."

"Your loss," Conrad said, and helped Annie into the wagon.

Once she was settled, Ezra quickly scrambled up after her. He smiled as he looked about, ready for an adventure.

Annie looked back at her home. Was she really taking a ride? She'd walked all over town in the past few months, but this was something different. She took Ezra's hand, and she felt him give her a little squeeze. She looked down to see his dimpled smile and couldn't help but smile herself.

Mr. Conrad settled himself into his seat and took up the reins. "Off we go," he said cheerfully.

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

The wagon jogged over the rutted ground. Ezra glanced to Annie, then returned his gaze to their surroundings. He was always so excited to see new things, even this quiet sojourn into the farming area seemed to draw something from him.

She knew every house and yard, every post and ditch along this road. In her youth, she'd traveled this way often as she left her parents' home to visit the town. It was a joy to see it all again – a world long shut off, reopened again.

Here was a familiar face, a remembered barn, a tree, a hedge, a garden – all the same. And then, little differences leaped out at her – a new shed, a missing tree, a different dog, a changed shade of paint on the trim of a porch. Pansies now instead of nasturtiums. So much the same, so much different.

From her closed off little world, it had seemed like these places didn't exist any longer. It was good to know that life continued – as it must. 

They moved past fewer houses as the world opened to large fields and then an orchard full of apple trees.

Mr. Conrad pulled back suddenly, bringing Demon and Devil to a halt. The horses pawed at the ground, not ready for the stop. They were nearly home and were obviously anxious to return to their own barn. 

"Did you want to see it?" Conrad asked her, his voice quiet and serious.

Annie let out a sigh and looked for the road. The path was nearly grown in, hardly more than a bare patch here and there, disappearing into an apple orchard. Weeds choked the space between the trees. The fence was awash in morning glories. One of the railings had fallen. 

Someone must have been picking the apples, but dozens littered the ground under the branches, all buzzing with bees. A few apples still fought for a place, while a riot of suckers grew up from every branch. Soon the trees be too choked to produce anything.

Her father would be so disappointed. Someone should be tending the orchard, she realized, but Harry knew nothing about apples, and she hadn't had the wherewithal to manage it herself once he was gone.

She'd grown up among those trees, in the little gray house nestled deep within them. She closed her eyes, picturing the old place – with the swing in the yard and the wide porch that wrapped all the way around. A huge oak tree. A playhouse that her father had built for her. A light-colored horse waiting for a ride. Blue shutters and flowers growing in the window boxes. She remembered the petunias, even though there had been no flowers since her mother had died. 

In her mind, she recalled the house, frozen in that time, not as she'd last seen it at the age of 20, but rather when she was 12, while her mother still lived.

The house only existed in her mind now. A fire had erased it shortly after she'd married Harry. The conflagration had taken her father along with it, and she'd seen no reason to return since then. Harry never pushed.

Eyes still closed, she clutched at Ezra's hand, who didn't loosen his hold. No, there was no need to see the blackened spot, no need to remember hearing the news that her father was gone so soon after her marriage.

If she had been living with her father, she would have awakened in time. She was always a light sleeper.

There was no reason to see the place again. Let that old image remain – the yellow petunias and the blue shutters and the swing. 

She shook her head and remained silent.

The wagon jerked and started forward again. She didn't open her eyes again until they were past the apple orchard and made their way to where the Conrads' grew pears.

Ezra was looking up at her, concerned. 

Without any encouragement, the horses turned onto a side road and brought the wagon through the orchard. Annie was glad to see familiar Conrad home come into sight. She'd missed their pretty white house with the gazebo.

Mrs. Conrad came out to the porch to greet her and she kissed her cheek when they reached her. "Oh, Annie, dear Annie," the woman said warmly. "It's so very good to see you again. It has been so long!" She walked with a cane now and had difficulty with the steps at the front of the house. She was more trapped than Annie had been.

"This is Mrs. Lorraine Conrad," Annie introduced. And Ezra, just as formally as before, shook her hand. It made the older lady laugh.

She fussed over Ezra and brought him into the kitchen for cookies and lemonade, moving with greater difficulty than Annie remembered. Annie almost followed to help, but then she caught sight of the dapple-grey horse in the pasture.

"Is that Old Austen?"

Mr. Conrad laughed as he worked at unharnessing his horses. "Yes, indeed. Retired and enjoying a life of leisure. I think your father would approve."

Annie smiled at him sweetly and then went to greet the familiar horse. The grey pricked up her ears at the sound of her approach and whickered happily. She ambled to the fence to meet up with Annie.

"Hello, Austen. Remember me?" the woman said softly, reaching out one hand. The old mare tossed her head and whinnied. Annie smiled, running a hand through the horse's mane and cooed her name.

She'd ridden this mare as a girl. She remembered her father lifting her onto the horse's bare back, and gentle Austen had carried her as they followed her father through the orchard. A sweeter horse had never been known.

The horse pressed her head against her chest, and Annie scratched between her ears. "You're such a good girl," she said quietly. "Lovely lady. Oh, how I've missed you."

There was a quiet rustle and then Ezra was beside her, eating a cookie. "Is this your horse?" he asked quietly.

"She was my father's," Annie replied. "And she's a clever thing, isn't she?" At the tone of her voice, Austen snorted and nodded as if in agreement. "That's right. Are you the clever girl?" And again, Austen nodded.

"Does she really know what you're saying?" Ezra asked, fascinated.

The horse turned her big eyes on the boy and lowered her head to investigate. Ezra squealed as the horse went after the remainder of the cookie in his hand. It was gone in the wink of an eye.

Annie laughed at Ezra's expression – astonished, annoyed and delighted all at the same time.

"She's a terrible sweet-tooth," Annie said. "Papa used candies to train her. Mama used to chide him for it, saying it wasn't good for horses, but Papa spoiled her horribly." She stopped talking suddenly, aware that she'd used such old names for her parents. Seeing the old horse and the Conrads had returned her to another place and time.

Ezra had stepped back when the horse had stooped toward him earlier. He watched the animal with a calculated expression. "She knows tricks?" he asked, looking up at Annie with hopeful eyes.

"Well, let's see. Do you still dance, Austen?" Annie asked, bobbing her head. "Dance?" 

With that, Austen mimicked her, bobbing her head back and forth for a moment, and then putting her whole body into it, stepping this way and that. Annie smiled a little sadly, noting that her movements were less fluid than they used to be. There was a time Austen would nearly leap from side to side.

Ezra watched in fascination. 

"I bet you would do a good job training a horse," Annie said, expecting Ezra to perk up at the word 'bet'. It always drew the boy's interest.

Instead, he looked solemn. "I didn't manage to tame Cartography's behavior," he reminded.

"But Carty is a cat. A horse is a reasonable creature."

"I stayed for a while with a man in Tennessee. He was trainin' a horse," Ezra said. "He sored her legs, blistering them, and put weights with extra nails on her hooves. It hurt her to walk, so she stepped high." He lowered his head. "He said that's how to train a horse." 

Annie turned sharply toward him. "That's not how you do it."

"He said it made her walk pretty."

Annie furrowed her brow as she scratched at Austen's great head. "You watched him do it?"

Ezra nodded, looking guilty. "I… I had to help," he said quietly. "She never liked me, that horse. I think she wanted to stomp me down." He frowned. "That man, he treated his slaves abysmally, too. I spent last summer with him." 

Annie frowned at this news. Ezra had told her that he had been left with different people while Maude went about her business untethered. His hollow tone gave Annie no doubt that it was an unhappy time for the boy. "Your mother left you there?" she asked.

Ezra shrugged. "She was misled."

Annie felt robbed of that summer. If only Maude had found her earlier, she might have had Ezra a year sooner, spent an earlier summer with him.

Returning her gaze to sweet Austen, Annie gave the mare a friendly scratch on the neck as if she needed reassurance after Ezra's telling. "My father would never hurt Austen," she explained to Ezra. "He trained her only with kindness, sweets and, of course, time. It took a lot of time and patience and repetition. Oh, my father had the patience of a saint. She could be stubborn at times, but he won her over. I could show you more of her tricks," she said.

Ezra smiled brightly at that. "I'll get more cookies," he said and bolted back toward the Conrad house.

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

They returned to Annie's little house late in the afternoon, after spending a friendly lunch in the Conrads' home. Annie found Ezra in his room, reading the book that had finally enticed him.

He looked up at her entrance. "It must have been nice," he said quietly.

"What's that, Ezra?"

"To grow up in one place. To know those people all your life," Ezra said, his voice at an even tone. "To have a home that you could visit any time you wanted."

Annie nodded, reminding herself that the house itself was gone.

"And you had the same neighbors that whole time?" Ezra continued. 

"Yes," Annie continued. "Good neighbors are a blessing."

"I'd like to see them again," Ezra said, dipping his head to the book. "Maybe we could go look at your old house next time?"

"It's gone, Ezra," Annie told him. "It's burned down. Only the outbuildings are still standing."

"Oh," Ezra said, lifting his head and looking genuinely saddened at that news. "I'm sorry."

"Me, too," Annie agreed. She felt downcast realizing how rundown the property had become, how overgrown and wild. Her father would not be pleased. "I've been thinking of hiring someone to manage the orchard," she said, offhand – saying it aloud might make it so. "It's a shame to let the apples fall to waste. Harry left me enough to be comfortable, but the extra income would be a benefit."

Ezra perked up at the thought of money coming in. "Hire the right man, and you'll be getting all sorts of profit," he said. "It looked as if there are still some to be picked. I can help with the money, once it starts flowing in."

Seeing him looking so bright and interested brought a smile to Annie. "I'm sure you can." It would be wonderful to have Ezra here to help her.

He set down the book as he stood. "Do you have records of who your father sold to before? If nothing else, I'm certain Mr. Conrad has connections. Whoever buys pears must also purchase apples, don't you think?" He gave her a look and said, "I don't know anything about apples, except how to eat them. I can certainly help you with the finances. The crop might not be good this year, but next year, it's certain to improve."

Yes, if he could be here all year and watch the money start rolling in as the apples shipped out.

"We'll hire someone," Annie agreed. "And we'll go see where the house used to be." She hoped the oak tree still stood, that the swing was still intact. Maybe the playhouse hadn't succumbed to decay. It would be nice to see it again. 

Next time, they would go to see the old place, and hire a man to get the orchard back in order. It felt good to make plans. It would be wonderful to see the orchard back in order again.

"Do you think Mr. Conrad knows someone to hire?" Ezra asked. "Or maybe Mrs. Chan, she knows a lot of people. She sells apples. Or Officer Costello. He knows everyone!"

Annie smiled at his enthusiasm. "It's Sunday," she reminded. "Maybe we'll go asking after school tomorrow. It'll be your first day."

"Oh, yeah, school," Ezra rolled his eyes.

Annie looked to the book on the bed. "Are you having an easier time of the book?" 

Ezra frowned down at it. "No," he responded, and then added, "Maybe, a little."

"You'll keep trying?" Annie persisted.

With a sigh, Ezra said, "Of course."

And she smiled as she left him, determined to make this last as long as she could.

[(*)][(*)][(*)][(*)]

 

"Ezra!" Nathan called as he left the Fischer's front door.

"In the back, Nathan," he heard Ezra respond.

As Jackson came around the little shack, he found Ezra with the three Fischer children and Chaucer. Nathan chuckled. He should have known. Ezra had helped him with the initial steps required to set their father's leg, but ever since he stepped out, Nathan had been listening to the children's laughter.

Their cheerful sounds seemed to ease their father's distress.

"Chaucer was about to give his audience a bow," Ezra informed the healer, "to show his gratitude for their attention during his performance."

Nathan watched as Ezra made a gesture. The chestnut horse dipped his head, nearly touching the ground as the little children squealed in glee. When Chaucer lifted his head, Ezra made another gesture and the horse took a quick spin, and then bowed again.

The children laughed and clapped as Ezra's hand slipped into his pocket and retrieved a peppermint from a pouch, quickly rewarding his friend.

As Chaucer chomped noisily, Ezra pulled the pouch from his pocket and frowned. "Now, I have run through his entire repertoire, but I have three sweets left. Whatever shall I do with them?"

The children became extra attentive, their eyes bright and wide, yet they were all well-mannered enough to keep from begging. Chaucer, on the other hand, was a spoiled creature and tried to crowd in and snatch the bag from Ezra's hands.

"Quick!" Ezra cried, "you must dispose of these immediately before Chaucer gets them! He will be entirely unreasonable if I allow him any more!" and he handed the bag immediately to the closest of the children and lifted a hand as if to ward of the greedy horse's head. He didn't try very hard.

Lawrence took one candy and popped it into his mouth before he handed the pouch to his sister, Marie, just missing Chaucer's reaching teeth.

Marie was able to grab out one candy before she handed it off to her little sister Judith. The littlest shrieked as Chaucer moved in and snatched the bag out of her hands. The pouch was almost consumed entirely, but Ezra was quicker, removing the bag from Chaucer's teeth before it could disappear.

"Naughty boy," Ezra stated without a bit of chastisement in his voice. He gently handed the bag to Judith as he patted his horse. "There you go, my darlin'. Meanwhile, you've had enough," he told Chaucer, who banged his head hard into Ezra's chest.

The gambler was forced backward, and he had to twist to keep from landing on the littlest child. He fell hard on his butt.

The three children erupted in laughter as Ezra looked outrageously offended. Chaucer bobbed his head.

Nathan joined in the laughter as he stepped forward to help Ezra to his feet. Ezra put up a show of fussing and dusting like a hen as the children moved out of his way.

"All is well?" Ezra asked once he was done.

"Yeah, Horace is going to be okay. Just has to stay put for a few weeks. Ain't gonna be easy for him, but he has good neighbors to help him. His wife is looking after him. He's all set for now."

"Excellent news!" Ezra declared. "Should we be going? I have plenty than can be accomplished back in town."

"Yeah," Nathan replied. "I saw those city slickers on the stage this morning. They looked like they had money."

"Yes," Ezra responded. "And soon they shall have none." He gestured to the little corral. "Badger is ready for you. I've already seen to him."

Nathan smiled a thank you, and went to retrieve his horse, while the children still crowded around Ezra, wanting more. It took a few moments and a few promises of repeat performances before Ezra was able to shake himself loose of them and make his way into Chaucer's saddle.

Soon enough, they were on their way home.

Ezra reached into his saddlebag, retrieving two apples. He tossed one to Nathan. "And, Mr. Fischer will truly be okay?" Ezra asked once they were away from the children. "You found nothing else amiss?"

"Yeah, it wasn't a bad break. Shouldn't take too long to heal," Nathan said, biting into the juicy fruit.

"That's excellent news," Ezra said as he buffed his apple against his lapel. "I'd hate to think that anything might happen to that family." He turned in his saddle, to see the three children watching them from afar. He bit into the apple so that he would have a free hand, and then waved at them. They waved back.

They were sweet children, Nathan knew. They'd been born outside of slavery and would grow up in a changed land. He hope this country kept its promise to them, to be a better place than the one he grew up in.

He envied them. 

Finished with his goodbyes, Ezra faced forward, retrieving the apple from his mouth. He looked toward Nathan. "Good one, isn't it?" he said. "Apples have always been my favorite fruit."

Nathan nodded in response. "Same here. Wish I could eat them all day."

Ezra made a wistful sound. "There was a time when I might have had that chance." He shrugged and took another bite. His expression changed as he looked up slyly. "Race?" he asked.

Before Nathan could form a reply, Ezra jammed the half eaten apple into his mouth and gave Chaucer a kick. The horse took off at a gallop. Nathan could do nothing except try to keep up.

THE END


End file.
